


Remember

by Artemis1000



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dragon Age Lore, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-12-09 06:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20990513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: Fenris and Hawke compare holiday traditions.





	Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [templaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/templaris/gifts).

> I was fascinated to read about the different Funalis/All Soul's Day traditions in Thedas, particularly that "up north" they dress as spirits for midnight parades. It doesn't say Tevinter but I figured it would be fun to have this take place in Tevinter.
> 
> I wanted to throw in some silly ghost bedsheets dressing up and figured that dressing as Shades with blackened bedsheets fits this best.

Tevinter loved its celebrations. Fenris had only ever been a spectator to them.

“You aren’t going to dress up, are you?” he asked Hawke when she spoke of her plans for All Soul’s Day. In Kirkwall, he had yet to see people dress up as spirits and go to a midnight parade like they did up north.

“No?” She looked confused, expectant.

He explained while she sharpened her daggers and he his greatsword, grateful to keep his hands busy. Speaking of Tevinter was never easy, even the most innocuous topics held unpleasant associations in his mind.

“Sounds fun,” Hawke decided. “More fun than what we do in Ferelden anyway. It’s just a whole lot of mourning and then you get drunk – mournfully.”

She sounded jovial but Fenris read her well enough to notice the tension in the mischievous crinkle around her eyes. Hawke had more people to mourn for with every year.

“Maybe we should do it your way. Dress up as abominations. Get some Templars chasing us.” She snickered. “If we’re lucky we might start a riot!”

He scoffed, his scowl warring with fond amusement. He abandoned his greatsword to hover next to Hawke. She was clutching the whetstone tight enough for her knuckles to have turned white. His hand covered hers, stilling it. “I’ll go with you.”

“In Lothering.” She paused, swallowed hard. “We didn’t have Father’s ashes. So we went to his favorite place. I’ve never found a place that feels right here.”

Fenris’s thumb rubbed gentle circles over her pulse point. “We will find a fitting place to mourn them.”

Tension bled out of her shoulders, humor turning real. “And then we get drunk on your wine and stagger around town with sooty bedsheets over our heads?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Something like that.”


End file.
